destination unknown
by sugar free vanilla
Summary: 'He pauses only to breathe, finally, his tirade managed on one lungful of air. He's calmer now, passive as his shoulders slump. "You happy now, Beckett? Or have I just sent you running for the hills?"' Post-Ep for The Squab And The Quail.


**I'm sorry for this. It's 5am and I haven't slept more than twenty minutes in approximately 43 hours and I should have known nothing good would come of watching The Squab and The Quail in the small hours of the morning. I'm using the airing order for this, so it's 5x21, pre-Still. **

**This is pretty much a giant rant about how I hated the 'where are we going' 'i don't know if we're even serious' story arc bye**

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"Castle.. Where are we going?" It's not what Kate intends to say when she parts her lips, but the words spill out of their own accord, the whispered question trumping the appreciation she'd been about to express.

"To the bedroom - come on. You're gonna love this." Castle's voice is low, gravelly - the one he uses in bed, husks against the shell of her ear as he brings her to bliss, the one that usually sends heat spreading through her in concentric circles of warmth.

This time it leaves her cold.

She can leave it now, let the ice in the pit of her stomach spread its icy tendrils through her veins until she's too frosted to thaw, Beckett realises. Or she can refuse to let him off of the hook, here. Insist on an answer.

It's the infinitely more terrifying option, fear of his answer causing her lungs to constrict, chest gripped by an unforgiving fist of dread.

She wants more with this man, wants it all. She doesn't know what she'll do if he doesn't desire the same.

"_Rick._" He halts, gaze finding hers instantly. She steels herself, the iron strength she summons altering her posture - chin lifts, shoulders straighten. She stands tall as she confronts him, an amazon. "That's not what I was asking and you _know _it. So why the _hell_ are you deflecting in lieu of giving me a god damn straight answer?" She stalks towards him, punctuates each of her next words with a sharp prod to his chest as she questions him a second time. "Where. Are. We. Going?"

The light in his eyes extinguishes with alarming suddenness, the playful spark that resides there snuffed out in a split second. It's all she can do not to blanch as he turns his dark stare upon her, his expression caught somewhere between incredulity and fury, maybe a pich of sad resignation thrown in.

"You want to _know_ why I'm deflecting? Because I'm fucking _petrified _of you and of this conversation that has the power to destroy me." His words are quiet despite their vehemence, a hiss of rage diffusing into the air between them. "How can you ask me _where we're going _ using the same fucking stance you use when you interrogate murder suspects, no less - when you can't even bring yourself to tell me you love me - and I know you do, Kate, you show me in so many ways but whether you haven't accepted it - or what, I don't know. Something. And that's _fine._ I'm willing to wait for you to be ready to say it. Forever if that what it takes - but God, you let other guys close enough to kiss you and it starts sowing doubts, Beckett. I _know _you love me, rationally - but times like this, some insecure part of me doesn't believe it."

He holds out his hand, signalling that he's not done as she makes to speak.

"Time like this, I struggle to have faith in it. You've kept one foot out the door this whole time. So, yeah. When you ask _where we're going_, I balk at giving you the truth, lest you're looking for a good excuse to run - I know your modus operandi, Beckett. I've witnessed it first hand, watched you die only to have you disappear on me for three months." His voice is louder now, barely raised but the inflections he places on the wods cause them to escape as biting barks - raw and honest and wounding.

"And so you wanna know where _I_ want us to go? I want to marry you and have a kid or two or maybe even three, and they'd all have your intelligence and wit and grace. I want to raise them to be the best they can be and see them get married and have our grandkids. I want to grow old with you, sit side by side in the old folks' home, complaining the children don't visit often enough. I want a future and a family and I want it all with you." He pauses only to breathe, finally, his tirade managed on one lungful of air. He's calmer now, passive as his shoulders slump. "You happy now, Beckett? Or have I just sent you running for the hills?"

"I-I…" Kate stutters, blown by the force of his rant, chastened and shocked and God, has she _really_ not told him she loves him? She thinks and realises with a jolt that she hasn't, not in so many words in his waking hours. She whispers it against his skin as he sleeps, breathes kisses and adoration against the soft scrape of stubble on his jaw. But never when he's awake and - oh _shit _- she's been unfair. Hesitating when Vaughn asked her if she and Castle were serious, claiming that it's 'complicated' when really the truth of it is that she's kept how she feels about Rick to herself for the duration of their relationship, expects him to push and force them to move forwards when he's so used to _waiting _for her, letting her take the lead. Nausea churns her stomach as she realised she let an Oxford accent and a few clever words to sneak under her defences, cast her faith in _them _into shadow just because she'd been feeling a little underappreciated. _Fuck. _"Castle. _Rick._ I want all that. So badly, I do - I'm not running. I swear." She reaches out to him, settles the flat of her palm against his heart. She's relieved when he doesn't pull away. "And I do. I-"

"Don't?" He pleads. "Not now - not because of this."

She's desperate to let the words out but Kate acquiesces with a nod of the head. He's waited so long to hear her say it - she knows he can't bear to have them tainted by this fight, sees he wants them to remain sacred. "As long as you know - as you _believe?"_

"I do, I do. Just - I may need reminding at times." Castle tugs her into him, holds her tightly as she sinks into his embrace.

"I'm gonna get you to believe." She swears to him, lips brushing the hollow of his throat. "Gonna spend every day of the rest of our lives showing you how much I love you."

A satisfied rumble vibrates in his chest as he dots kisses against her hair.

"You still want that massage, sweetheart?"

"Mm, maybe later. Just this for now." She squeezes him tighter for emphasis. "Wanna hold you. And Castle? I'm never letting go."

It's a promise that she's not going to run, that she's diving in with him, both feet firmly through the entrance way. That the only way they're going is forward and their destination is always.


End file.
